


The National Pi Day Meet Cute

by jdmusiclover



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-14
Updated: 2018-03-14
Packaged: 2019-03-31 07:28:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13970238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jdmusiclover/pseuds/jdmusiclover
Summary: When Mary Margaret Blanchard finds out her grandson has a very single, very handsome math teacher, she devises a way to create a sweet little meet cute between her daughter, Emma, and said math teacher.





	The National Pi Day Meet Cute

“Bye mom!” Henry yelled, as he hopped out of Emma’s yellow bug, slung his backpack over his shoulder, and started sprinting toward his friends.  “See you after school!”

Emma waved him off, smiling as she saw her son catch up with a few of his friends, talking animatedly.  It had been nearly a month since the two of them had moved to the sleepy little town of Storybrooke, Maine.  Emma had worried that moving Henry halfway through his sixth grade year would be difficult, but her precocious little eleven-year-old had taken to small town living like a duck to water.  He’d made more friends than he knew what to do with, and he absolutely loved school.

The smile slid from Emma’s face as she looked at the fresh-out-of-the-oven apple pie sitting on the passenger seat before her.

The problem with having a preteen who loved school is that he talked about it.  A lot.  And one of the people he talked about more than any other was his absolute favorite teacher, Mr. Jones, who was, as Henry put it, “the best teacher in the whole world”.

When Emma and Henry had left New York for Storybrooke, the two of them had moved in with her mom and dad, David and Mary Margaret Blanchard, at least until they got settled.    When Henry started talking about Mr. Jones, Mary Margaret had perked up.  When he told her that Mr. Jones was single and “old like mom”, Emma had groaned.

Emma knew she’d never get another moment’s peace.

“Emma,” Mary Margaret had said one morning, a conniving look in her eyes.  “It’s really important you be involved in Henry’s education.  Don’t you think you should meet his teachers?  Maybe we should have one of them over for dinner one night.  How about, oh, I don’t know…Mr. Jones?”

Emma pinched the bridge of her nose.  “Look mom,” she said, “I get what you’re doing, but I’m not looking for a relationship.  I did the whole ‘fall in love’ thing about twelve years ago, and Neal Cassidy cured me from any desire to ever do it again.”

“But not every guy is like Neal,” Mary Margaret said earnestly.  “Not every guy is going to leave you.  And love is _so_ worth it when you find the right guy.”

Emma muttered something about needing to get some work done before she went into the office, hoping her mom would drop the subject.

No such luck.

Last night, Mary Margaret had come up with her most brilliantly evil plan yet, and what’s worse, she’d gotten Henry involved.

“Hey mom,” Emma said as she returned to the loft after her day at the sheriff’s station.  “Something smells good.”

Mary Margaret shot her the kind of smile that Emma knew was trouble.  “So Henry came home from school today and told me that tomorrow is National Pi Day.  I was thinking I ought to do something to celebrate.  I thought I would make a pie for his math teacher, Mr. Jones—you know his very single, very handsome and very eligible teacher?  You know because….pie for Pi Day?”

Emma groaned.

“And…” Mary Margaret said in a way that made Emma sure she didn’t want to hear what came next, “I was thinking maybe you could take the pie to Mr. Jones.”

“Mom…”

“Yeah!” Henry said, coming in and swiping an apple slice from the bowl where his grandma was tossing them with cinnamon and sugar.  “Mom, Mr. Jones would _love_ it, and I can’t carry the pie in myself!  I’d look like a loser!”

“Since when does pie make you look like a loser?” Emma asked.

“Mom!” Henry said, drawing out the single syllable and following it with an eyeroll.  “I can’t take a pie to a teacher.  I’ll look like a teacher’s pet!”

“He’s right, Emma,” Mary Margaret said solemnly.  “Middle school is a brutal place.  You don’t want your son to be ostracized, do you?”

Emma sighed, shaking her head at the two.  She knew when she was beat, and with the two of them ganging up on her, she was most definitely beat.  “Fine.  I’ll take the pie to Mr. Jones.”

And so here she was, bright and early on National Pi Day, weaving her way through a sea of rowdy pre-teens, looking for room 108, where Mr. Perfect himself would be waiting.

_Mr. Perfect_ she scoffed to herself.  The man was a _math_ teacher, a math teacher who was passionate about his topic.  Just about screamed _nerd_ didn’t it?  There was probably a very good reason he was very single. 

She stopped just outside the door and took a deep breath.  She’d get this over with, and then be able to go home and tell her matchmaking mother that her meddlesome schemes had failed miserably.

“Mr. Jones?” she said, knocking on the doorframe, and looking in at the man whose back was turned to her as he worked on his computer.

Mr. Jones turned around, and for a moment Emma forgot to breath, though she’s pretty sure she gasped so loudly her mom could hear it all the way from the loft.  Mr. Jones was quite possibly the most beautiful man she had ever seen in her life.

He gave her an appreciative grin, getting to his feet and coming to meet her with an outstretched hand.  “Mr. Killian Jones at your service.  And who might you be, love?”

_Great_!  Not only was he hotter than any many had a right to be, but he had a smooth, British accent as well.  Butterflies started doing the polka in her stomach.

“Love?” He said again, and it was only then that Emma realized she’d been staring, mouth hanging open, at the man in front of her for a solid two minutes.

She shook her head.  _Emma!  Get a grip!_

“Sorry,” she said, hating the slightly husky sound of her voice.  “I’m Emma Swan.  My son Henry is in one of your sixth grade math classes.”

“Henry!” Mr. Jones said.  “I must admit he’s one of my favorites.  What can I do for you Mrs. Swan?”

“Miss,” Emma said, lamely, surprised and annoyed by how hard she was finding it to string two words together in a coherent fashion.

“Beg pardon?”

“It’s Miss Swan,” Emma said.  Henry’s dad and I…well, let’s just say we haven’t been together since before he was born and leave it at that.”

He grinned at her from beneath heavily hooded eyes, and the look made her heart skip a beat.  The amount of gorgeous this man was displaying should be illegal.  It really should.  “I must say, I’m rather glad to hear it.  So what brings you to my classroom, love, though I’m hardly complaining about a lovely and single woman coming to visit me?”

Emma felt the blush covering her face.  She averted her eyes, desperately looking for a way to get ahold of herself.  Her eyes landed on the item she was holding.  “Uh, I came to give you this.  Henry thought you might like a pie for National Pi Day, because, you know, pie, Pi?”

He laughed, and Emma looked up, admiring the dimples in his scruff-covered cheeks, the tiny lines around his shockingly blue eyes.  “I’ll accept this happily on one condition.”

“Yeah?  What’s that?”

“You simply must stay and have a slice with me,” he said gesturing toward his desk.

“Don’t you have, you know classes to teach and stuff?” Emma asked.

“Aye,” Killian said, “but as it happens, first period is my prep period, so I’m all yours for the next hour.”

“I don’t know…”

“I insist,” Killian said.  “You, no doubt have heard about me from your son, but I know next to nothing about his mother.  Just who are you, Swan?”

Emma grinned, giving him a flirtatious look.  “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“Perhaps I would,” he answered with a wink that did not turn her insides to mush.  (It absolutely turned her insides to mush.)

~c~s~c~s~c~s~c~s~c~s~

An hour and a half later, Emma pulled up in front of her parents’ apartment building, dropped her head onto her hands on the steering wheel and groaned.

She and Killian had fallen into easy conversation over their pie, and just before she left, he’d asked her out to dinner that night, insisting he must return the favor.

She’d said yes almost before the sentence was complete.  She had a date with her son’s (hot) math teacher.

There would be no living with her mother after this.

~The End~

 

_Notes:_

_\--Happy National Pi Day!  When I heard on the radio this morning that we were celebrating that particular holiday, it brought back to mind something that happened to me several years ago.  My sister had a single math teacher who was around my age.  My mom decided that he would be absolutely_ perfect _for me.  (Why?  I don’t know; she hadn’t even met the guy.  All she knew was that he was my age and single, lol.).  So she came up with this brilliant, devious plan to create a little meet cute.  She made a pie for the guy for National Pi Day, called me at my apartment, and asked if I would take my baby sister into school that morning and take the pie to her eligible bachelor of a teacher.  I rolled my eyes and agreed to do it.  Sadly, my story has an anti-climactic ending.  When I got to the classroom, Mr. Perfect was not there, so I ended up just setting the pie on his desk and leaving.  I never did meet the math teacher, which is fine with me.  We must not affirm our mothers in their crazy matchmaking schemes, lol._

_\--But, as that story came to mind, I realized it, like so many other things, would make a very interesting CS au.  So happy pi day, everyone!  I wish you all drop dead gorgeous, blue eyed, black haired, ginger-bearded math teachers to make your Pi Day complete!_


End file.
